


The One Where Derek is the Dog Whisperer and Stiles is a Hapless Dog Owner

by sparkysparky



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, LITERALLY, M/M, and it's lovely and wonderful, and save people who are lost, and then they live happily ever after and raise puppies, i'm not even sory, scott is a puppy, what is this I don't even
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-10
Updated: 2012-07-10
Packaged: 2017-11-09 13:03:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sparkysparky/pseuds/sparkysparky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek may or may not be a werewolf in this. And Scott is a puppy. Literally. You're welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Derek is the Dog Whisperer and Stiles is a Hapless Dog Owner

The last thing Derek wanted after a four hour search that (even with successful reunion of parent and child) had been brutal, was an unannounced visitor. He stood on the porch, arms crossed over his chest, dogs alert and on guard beside him, as the jeep screeched to a stop and a young man tumbled out. He was tall, probably of a height with Derek, and gangly with short cropped hair and a ridiculous red hoodie. Good face though, bright eyes and a wide mouth that (at the moment) expressed frustration and annoyance. 

The young man looked up, and did an awkward half wave, eying the dogs with trepidation. Derek gave the dogs a hand signal to stand down, and then nodded that they should go inside. Their body language relaxed, though Derek knew that at the first sign of danger they would be on alert again, waiting for instruction. "Need some help?" 

"So, uh, I heard you're like the dog whisperer or something. Did you train those three? Cuz they're pretty awesome. Don't think I missed your little mind control gig with the hand and the eyes and the signals. " The kid shook himself visably and seemed to remember that he had a purpose here. "Anyway, got your name from Dr. Deaton? You know, the vet in town? He mentioned that you might be able to help me out with my dog." 

Derek sighed, and made a note to tell Deaton to stop giving out his name to random kids, who most likely had no business owning a dog in the first place. But it wasn't the dog's fault that its owner was a ridiculous, overgrown puppy himself so he just let out a sigh and stepped off the porch. "Where's the dog?" 

"In there." The kid jerked a thumb at an ancient Jeep that looked like it had seen its best days 25 years ago. 

Derek moved to the Jeep, looked in. Grinned. The pup--not more than a couple months old and barely passed the fuzzy stage--was a lab-retriever mix with a coat of a gorgeous brown-gold. And currently very busy. 

"Your dog's eating your truck." 

"What?" The kid spun around, peered in the Jeep window. "Fuck. Dude, that's new upholstery!" He yanked open the door and grabbed the dog, though Derek noted that he was careful to disengage the teeth from the leather without hurting the puppy. "Goddammit, what is wrong with you?" 

The puppy was oblivious to his owner's distress, and unreptentant as well, leaped into the kid's arms where it wriggled and yipped in delight. The kid made a face as the dog covered him in loving puppy kisses, but again Derek noted that he didn't look mad. If anything he held the dog close for a second, actually cuddling it, before holding it at arm's length.

"Okay, okay, enough! Jesus." Still holding the puppy at arm's length, he looked inside the Jeep with mournful eyes. "Poor Sheila. We scrimped and saved for months to get you reupholstered, didn't we baby." He looked at Derek, actually pouting for fuck's sake. "He ate the headrest. In under five minutes! How does that happen?"

"It takes ten seconds for a puppy to get bored. Bored puppies chew. Happy puppies chew. Sad puppies chew." Telling himself he was doing this for the dog, he took the puppy from the kid and held him close. "What's his name?" 

"Uh, Scott. And I'm Stiles." 

He snorted and took the puppy from Stiles (and wasn't that a ridiculous name?) "Well, let's see what he's made of." He signaled to his own dogs to release. As they trotted over, he set the pup down and stepped back. 

Some puppies would cower, some wojuld hide or run away. But some, like Scott, were made of sterner stuff. He leaped at the dogs, yipping and wagging. He sniffed as they sniffed, quivered with glee, nipped at legs and tails. 

"Oh god. They're gonna eat him! He's so tiny! They're huge!" Stiles made a move to grab his dog up, but Derek placed a restraining hand on his arm. 

"He's fine. They're all fine. Let them get to know each other." 

Stiles bit his lip, but didn't move again to rescue the dog. Derek didn't know how long that would last though, so moved to distract him. "Why'd you get a dog?" 

Stiles blinked, and looked away from the dogs. "Uh, because my dad gave me one. Thought I could use the company or something now that I'm on my own. So uh, I guess we're stuck with each other now. Or something." 

Derek frowned. "If you don't want him, I can help find a home for him." Or take him on himself. He'd been thinking about adding a fourth dog to his pack, and Scott showed all the signs of a good search and rescue dog. 

But Stiles surprised him by shaking his head no. "He's my dog. We just...need some help. That's why we're here. So, do you think you can help us?" 

Derek looked away from the kid's bright, hopeful eyes. He sighed, knowing he'd been beat from the moment the kid's Jeep turned into his yard. "Yeah. I'll help you." 

Stiles grinned, let out a happy whoop that had his dog bounding over and jumping up on his legs. Derek sighed again. He knew already this was going to be a mistake, but he couldn't bring himself to regret the decision. Sometimes mistakes were meant to be made, after all. This happened to be one of them.


End file.
